by Anna Schmidt
She looked up at him.
“Have you ever thought about contacting Faith’s father—about putting them in touch with each other?”
The anguish that spread across every feature of her face gave him his answer. “Oh, Jeb, you can’t imagine how I’ve agonized over that. I mean, I didn’t intentionally keep them apart, but what if Danny rejects her? What if he’s still in denial about even being her father? And even if he isn’t, wouldn’t I just be ripping open the wound she’s carried all her life, knowing he didn’t want her?”
“Have you talked about this at all with Jessica?”
“Yeah. Jess thinks that Danny stays away because he knows Faith is his, knows he left us both to face the gossip and speculation, and can’t face his own guilt. She thinks that’s why he always arranges these elaborate holiday family gatherings in places like Disneyland or Vail or Mexico. When their parents died, they were living in Milwaukee so he didn’t even have to come here for the funerals.”
“But she doesn’t know for sure that he’s feeling guilt or remorse?”
“No. She admits that she hasn’t brought it up. She just thinks the evidence is there—two failed marriages, and having to accept that success and money aren’t the true path to happiness that he always believed they would be.”
“And Faith? What does she think?”
“We haven’t talked about it in a long time. She’s been so happy and doing so well with the way things are. I mean, life with Reba and me seems perfectly normal to her. She has other friends who live with their mothers and rarely see their fathers. She doesn’t seem to think about him much at all anymore.”
“Megan, think about her recent actions—the way she spends all her time with Caleb, her concern that you and I might start seeing each other romantically, and now turning to her grandfather instead of you or Reba for advice.”
“There’s no connection,” Megan said, but she was biting her lower lip the way he’d learned she did when she was worried.
“There is a connection. We’re all male and perhaps subconsciously we represent to Faith the various sides of that father she never knew.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’m no shrink, but perhaps her relationship with Caleb is a kind of fantasy of the way her father might have loved her, might have taken pride and joy in her the way Caleb sometimes does. But at the same time she’s wise enough to understand that the likely outcome of this is that he’ll leave at the end of the summer and that will be it for any romance between them. So Caleb doesn’t quite fit the bill.”
“So who are you then?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’m the threat, the man who could potentially take you away from her. And then Owen shows up—someone she can feel safe casting in the role of father. But what happens when Owen gets sicker? What happens if he dies before he can get a transplant? She’s right back where she started.”
“And what if Dan rejects her—or worse, what if he…she…” Megan bit her lip hard and turned away.
“Say it out loud, Megan. What is it that you fear most?”
“It’s selfish,” she warned. “So shamefully selfish.”
“Say it anyway.”
“I’m afraid she’ll want to be with him and not me. He can give her so much and take her so many places and make the road ahead smoother for her without having to worry about scholarships or working to help with the tuition or… Why are you pushing this?” she asked, her eyes suddenly furious.
“Because I’m also selfish—I don’t think there can be a future for you and me unless you first resolve all of those past relationships that hurt you so much. And yet those relationships helped mold you into the strong and beautiful person you’ve become.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “I’m falling in love with you, Megan, and I find myself dreaming of a future that includes you and Faith and, with God’s blessing, children of our own.”
Jeb had thought he was prepared for any reaction but the one he got. Megan scrambled to her feet and hastily gathered her picnic dishes, not looking at him. He could see that her hands were shaking and he stood up as well, reaching for her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. “I have to go,” she mumbled, and took off across the park, holding her long Pilgrim skirt with one hand.
Chapter Twelve
M egan’s heart and her head seemed ready to explode. There were so many things that had come all at once. Her father’s return, Jeb’s suggestion that maybe it was time Faith knew her own father, and then on top of everything he was talking about the two of them marrying and having children. It was too much.
The very idea that she and Jeb might marry was surely ludicrous. He was infatuated with her—that was it. She had surprised him on a number of levels and he was intrigued by that. How could a minister possibly consider her a proper wife? Somehow she had to make him see that in many ways what they had discovered in each other was only a more mature version of what Faith and Caleb shared. It couldn’t last in either case.
“And I’d like to know why not,” Reba demanded, after she had witnessed Megan’s flight and followed her back to the inn.
“Let me count the ways,” Megan moaned.
“You cannot let stereotypical ideals of what a preacher’s wife looks like shape your thinking on this, Meggie. You can’t let people like Nellie or her ilk influence your decision.”
“I’m not,” Megan protested, but deep down she knew she was. The town matriarch and her cohorts had long held sway over how she viewed herself. She had spent years trying to prove herself to them, trying to make sure that Faith was not punished or discriminated against simply by virtue of her birth. And she had succeeded to a point, but she couldn’t see them embracing the idea of Jeb marrying her. They would turn on Jeb and that would be a disaster for the community. “Besides, I have to think of what’s best for Faith.”
“Seems to me giving that girl a real home with two loving parents and the possibility of siblings wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Reba had softened her tone and she was sitting close to Megan on the inn’s porch swing, her hand resting lightly on Megan’s knee.
“And this idea of bringing Dan into the picture…” Megan released a deep shuddering sigh.
“Now, that’s another matter altogether. It might just be the right thing to do, especially now with Faith seeing Owen and you and thinking on that. However, the way I see it, Faith can make that decision herself. You can give her all the information she needs and your blessing if she wants to make contact, and leave it in God’s hands from there.”
Megan took some time to consider this. Faith was mature for her age and it certainly was her right to know her real father. “What if he rejects her, denies ever fathering her?”
“Times have changed. Folks do DNA tests at the drop of a hat these days. You can prove he’s the father—you could have proved it then, but he left and you were dead set against going after him.”
“Oh, Reba, it would never have worked. He would have resented me and eventually Faith for the life he’d missed out on.”
Reba snorted. “Well, this is no longer all about Mr. Danny Moreland—never was, truth be told. You’re sometimes so wrapped up in making sure everybody else is okay that you forget to take care of what you want and need. Always trying to please others. Why don’t you try pleasing yourself for once?”
Megan looked over at the woman who was as much a mother to her as any woman could have been. Reba’s face was flushed and she worked her mouth the way she did when something upset her. “Why are you so mad at me?” she asked, and to her astonishment Reba burst into tears.
“Oh, Meggie, I was hoping not to have to tell you this until later. You and Jeb were having such a good time today, and I just wanted this day for the two of you to share and enjoy and…”
“Reba, what’s happened? Are you sick?”
“No more than usual,” Reba said as she reached in the pocket of her apron and pulled out one of Stan’s old handkerchiefs. She gave a snort of a la
ugh as she blew her nose. “Seems you and me both need to face facts, Meggie.”
Megan felt her heart clutch. No, please, no more, she prayed silently. She really didn’t think she could face anything else today. “Tell me.” She folded her hands tightly in her lap, steeling herself for what was coming.
“This is probably the last season for the inn—at least for my running the inn,” Reba said. “I just can’t do it anymore, honey. The pain from my arthritis too often gets in the way of how I treat guests. In town the other day I overheard that young honeymoon couple talking about the inn and they said…” The tears started again and Megan grabbed Reba’s hand and held on. “They said the inn was fabulous, with the one exception of the crab behind the desk.”
“That’s just cruel,” Megan said. “And it’s one opinion. Surely…”
“They didn’t know I heard them, honey, and it’s not just one opinion. I’ve seen it in the way other guests react—like they’re not sure how to approach me if they need something.”
“But…”
“Besides, you and I have known this day would come. You’ve seen the letters and e-mails from my Carla down in Arizona. She worries and she’s got a husband and three kids to manage, not to mention a job. I’d be easing her burden some by going down there, but I laid down the law on one thing. I’ll spend my summers right here—keep the house and sell the inn.”
Megan tried to imagine the inn without Reba and couldn’t.
“So you see, here’s one more reason for you to think seriously about what Jeb said to you about a future with him. I don’t want to have to sit down there in the desert worrying about you, missy.”
“Faith…”
“Faith will be fine. You, on the other hand, have come to a fork in the road. The way I see it, you can take the high road up the hill to living in that parsonage with the man who has come to love you like you deserve to be loved. Or you can insist on continuing to decide what you think everybody else needs and ignoring yourself. What’s it going to be?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Sure it is, honey. But there’s time yet. I’m not going anywhere until the fall. In the meantime, Pete Burbank might be interested in buying the inn and I already told him that, whoever ends up buying it, you have a job and a home here for as long as you want. I’m not selling on any other terms,” Reba declared in a voice she might have used to deliver an ultimatum from the church pulpit.
The older woman shifted her weight and pushed herself off the swing, groaning with every movement. “Got to stir around a bit,” she said. “You stay on here if you like. All the guests are still out for the evening. Beautiful night for sitting on a porch swing and thinking things through.”
“Reba?” Megan looked up at her friend and mentor. “I love you.”
“I know, honey. I know. Now, take my advice and turn some of that boundless love you offer others inside and love yourself for a change.” She lumbered into the lobby of the inn, letting the screen door close softly behind her.
Megan pushed the swing into motion and kept the rhythm going until she saw the first of the fireworks light the night sky over the lake. It was unlike her to wish time away, but she couldn’t help wondering where she would be and what her life would be like a year from now.
“Hey, Mom.”
Megan was surprised to see Faith standing at the foot of the porch steps.
“Hey, yourself.” Megan patted the seat next to her. “Want to watch the fireworks with me?”
Faith scrambled up to the porch and curled herself onto the swing, one leg tucked under her. “Reba coming?”
Watching the fireworks together on the Fourth had been one of their longstanding traditions. It was during a fireworks display that Reba and Stan had suggested Megan bring Faith and come live with them. It had always been a special time for them—a family time.
“Where’s Caleb?”
Faith shrugged. “His older brother has some of his fraternity friends staying over and Caleb wanted to be with them.”
“He didn’t ask you to come?”
“He asked. I turned him down.”
Megan rested her arm along the back of the swing. “Oh, honey, that’s so sweet, but…”
“They’ll be drinking, Mom.”
“Oh.”
Faith squirmed around until she had fit herself in the shelter of Megan’s arm, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder the way she had as a child. “I don’t like Caleb’s brother. I mean, he seems like a nice guy, really outgoing, and all the girls think he’s even better-looking than Caleb. But he’s not nearly as nice as Caleb.”
“I see.” It was times like this that Megan sent up a prayer that God would guide her words. “How is he not so nice?”
“For one thing, if it’s not all about him, he gets upset, puts people down, especially Caleb. And sometimes the way he looks at me like he’s trying to size me up or something.” She shivered. “And he’s always talking about drinking parties they throw in the frat house.”
“Well, then you were wise to stay away. I’m sure Caleb will understand.”
“Yeah. Probably.” She didn’t sound very sure of that.
Megan wrapped her arms around her daughter and rested her chin on Faith’s silky hair as they watched the fireworks together. Thank you, God, for this wonderful child.
“So where’s Rev Jeb?” Faith asked, just when Megan was beginning to feel that the silence between them was comfortable.
“Not sure. I guess I kind of dumped him.”
Faith sat up and peered at Megan’s face. “For real?”
“Would that make you happy?”
She watched as her daughter wrestled with an answer. “No, because I know you’d be sad. He’s not so bad. Gramps says that he’s a keeper. Auntie Reba thinks the man walks on water and Gramps says that if Jeb makes you happy, what’s my problem.”
Megan had noticed that Faith quoted her grandfather with growing frequency. “And what do you say?”
“He’s okay. I just don’t want— I just worry about…”
“Hey, you and I are both savvy women, honey. I can see the pros and cons of being with Jeb the same way I know you realize the ups and downs of seeing Caleb.”
“Except I know there’s no future for Caleb and me—not really. Not like there could be for you and Rev Jeb.”
“You think so?”
“Mom, the way the man looks at you has the female population of Singing Springs drooling with envy. And then that business today with the cakewalk—like he didn’t know which cake was yours.” Faith settled back into the curve of Megan’s arm as a spray of gold lit the night sky. “I mean, how romantic can you get?”
Megan smiled, realizing that Faith wasn’t offering her permission to continue seeing Jeb. She was giving it her blessing. She hugged the girl close. “I love you, Faith Osbourne.”
“Love you back,” Faith replied and then sat up and hugged her knees to her. “Here comes the grand finale,” she shrieked as a series of red, blue and gold fireworks streaked their way heavenward.
Megan watched until the last ember had burned itself out, the last pop and boom had echoed across the lake. And in the silence that followed she knew that Reba was right. It was time she stopped living to make up for yesterday and started looking toward tomorrow.
“You coming up to the house?” Faith asked as she stood and stretched and yawned.
“In a bit. You go ahead and check on Reba to be sure she took her medicine, okay?”
Faith saluted and yawned again. “I am beat.” She leaned down and kissed Megan’s cheek. “See you in the morning, okay?”
“Sleep well.”
After Faith left, Megan sat for a while longer, watching the crowd disperse. She saw Jeb walking across the road and up the lane to the parsonage. He called out good-nights to several locals and continued on his way alone.
Jeb could not have been more surprised when Megan fell into step next to him. “Hi,” she said,
her voice husky with the damp night air.
“Hi, yourself,” he replied, taking care not to read too much into her sudden appearance. “Did you see the fireworks?”
“Faith and I watched from the porch at the inn. Kind of a family tradition.”
“Sounds nice.”
“You got a few minutes? I’d like to talk.”
Was she asking to speak with her pastor or with the man who loved her? “Sure. I could make us some coffee.”
“That would be nice.”
They walked the rest of the short distance to the parsonage in silence. Inside, Jeb flicked on lights and started preparing the coffee. “I’m not much of a cook,” he said, making small talk until he could get a read on her purpose in coming here. “But I make one terrific cup of joe.”
Megan smiled and wandered into the living room where he’d left a lamp on and the windows open to catch a cross breeze. She fingered the lace curtains. “I always loved these curtains,” she said. “Mrs. Dunhill brought them back from a trip she and the reverend took to Ireland.”
The coffee dripping into the pot filled the silence.
“I expect you had a chance to travel some when you were in business,” she added.
“Some.” Where was this going?
The coffeemaker gave a final shudder and spit out the last of the brew. Jeb got mugs and spoons and a small pitcher of milk. “I’m out of cream,” he called.
“Milk’s fine.”
He set things up on the kitchen table. “Come and get it,” he said.
She returned to the kitchen and poured milk into her mug and then the hot coffee. He filled his mug with black coffee and pulled out a chair for her.
“Could we sit in there?” she asked, nodding back toward the shadowy living room.
“Sure.” Jeb’s heart plummeted. She was deliberately choosing a venue where it would be difficult to see her face. He envisioned her in the upholstered straight chair on one side of the fireplace, with him sitting opposite her in Dunhill’s worn leather recliner.